


Atsuku Penis!

by spurious



Category: Tackey & Tsubasa
Genre: Begging, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breathplay, Collars, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, Massage, Mirrors, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Sensory Deprivation, Silence Kink, Sleepy Sex, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four threesomes, one twosome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atsuku Penis!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the two-person exchange pinkpapyrus and I decided to hold XD Her prompt to me was a list of kinks, which I split up into four groups of three. The kinks were: massage, silence, sleepy; begging, orgasm denial, sensory deprivation; mirrors, nipple play, writing on the body; and collar, jealousy, possession/marking. I also added in some breathplay and bondage, for ~reasons.

**massage, silence, sleepy**  
Hideaki glances at his watch before he closes the green room door behind their manager. He mentally reviews their schedule for the rest of the day and concludes that they have a total of forty minutes before someone comes looking for them to drag them on to the next activity. If they're very quiet, hopefully anyone who comes to the room looking for them before that will assume they're asleep and leave them alone. Hideaki locks the door before he turns back toward the room. Tsubasa's lying on the sofa with his right forearm draped over his eyes, his t-shirt riding up and exposing a patch of smooth, tanned skin. Hideaki crosses the room and kneels down next to the sofa, pushing the shirt up a little more and palming across Tsubasa's stomach. Tsubasa shifts, sighing, and offers no other reaction than a hint of a smile. Hideaki reaches, one-handed, into his bag to search for the bottle of massage oil he keeps stashed inside, while using his other hand to slowly expose more of Tsubasa's stomach. When he finds the bottle, he taps Tsubasa's shoulder with it. Tsubasa removes his arm from his eyes and opens his right eye just slightly. He looks at the bottle, then at Hideaki, who gestures for him to turn over. Tsubasa smiles, sitting up to tug off his shirt before he turns over onto his stomach.

Hideaki climbs onto the sofa, planting his knees on either side of Tsubasa's hips and sitting down on his ass. Just the contact starts heat curling in Hideaki's stomach, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself before pouring out some lotion on the small of Tsubasa's back. Tsubasa shivers at the coolness of it, but he relaxes quickly when Hideaki rubs both hands up the line of his spine. Hideaki just rubs his hands up and down Tsubasa's back at first, feeling for tense spots. He pushes his thumb into a knot and Tsubasa hisses; Hideaki palms over his shoulder soothingly as he works at the knot until the stiff muscles relax. Tsubasa's breathing starts to even out as Hideaki keeps working on his back, his breaths slow and deep. It's been about twenty minutes and Hideaki's hands are starting to hurt when he realizes that Tsubasa's fallen asleep. He finishes the knot he's working out before leaning over to press a kiss to Tsubasa's temple. Tsubasa stirs slightly, but he doesn't open his eyes.

In an attempt to wake him up, Hideaki kisses sloppily down the side of Tsubasa's face, stopping to nip at his earlobe. He hears Tsubasa breathe out a laugh at the contact, and that's enough for him. He slides off, onto the floor, and nudges Tsubasa's shoulders to get him to turn over again. Tsubasa obliges, keeping his eyes closed. He's still breathing deeply, and his movements are slow and deliberate, sleep-fuzzy. When Tsubasa's turned over, Hideaki wriggles out of his pants and climbs back onto the sofa to straddle him. He grinds his hips down against Tsubasa's, feeling his cock getting hard in his jeans. Tsubasa opens his mouth on a sigh, and Hideaki works at the button of his pants.

When he's got Tsubasa's skinny jeans tugged down to his thighs, Hideaki grabs the bottle of lotion from where it was threatening to slip between the couch cushions and pours a generous amount onto his palm before taking hold of both his and Tsubasa's cocks. Tsubasa's eyebrows knit together and his hips twitch up, and as Hideaki strokes his hand slowly up their cocks, he bends forward to kiss him. Tsubasa returns the kiss with lazy sleepiness, parting his lips to allow Hideaki's tongue inside, making a soft noise low in his throat that Hideaki feels more than hears. He works his hand up and down their slick cocks, feeling their blood thumping in unison.

There's not enough time to draw things out, so soon Hideaki begins to stroke them faster, pulling away from the kiss to press his face against Tsubasa's neck. The room is silent save for the sound of their harsh breathing and the wet sound of Hideaki's hand on their cocks. He comes first, mouthing at Tsubasa's pulse point, but he doesn't slow down or stutter in his rhythm at all, keeps stroking up and down Tsubasa's cock until he comes with a low whine, the loudest Hideaki's heard him since they started.

When Hideaki sits up, Tsubasa is blinking up at him with hooded, sleepy eyes. He watches Hideaki lick the come off of his fingers, but by the time he's bending to clean Tsubasa's stomach with his tongue, Tsubasa's breathing's evened out and Hideaki's pretty sure he's asleep again.

"While I was napping earlier I had this great dream that you gave me a massage and a handjob," Tsubasa whispers in the car later, "wanna make that a reality?"

**begging, orgasm denial, sensory deprivation**

The blindfold is soft as Hideaki slips it over Tsubasa's eyes, the cloth a gentle caress over his skin. Hideaki takes his hands, and Tsubasa can feel him leaning in, his breath on Tsubasa's lips. He leans forward, lips parted, and Hideaki moves the rest of the way to kiss him. They take their time with it, lips and tongues slipping wet and lazy against each other, until Tsubasa's heart is beating faster and his cock has gone from hard to almost painfully so. He palms blindly up Hideaki's forearm, his fingers tentatively grasping the hair at the nape of his neck. When Tsubasa tugs, Hideaki sighs into his mouth, squeezing Tsubasa's other hand.

Hideaki pulls away after what seems simultaneously like an hour and just a few seconds, and then Tsubasa's left sitting alone on the bed. The abrupt lack of contact jars him a little, and he instinctively turns his head, as though looking to see where Hideaki's gone. He hears him moving next to him, and then the bed shifts as Hideaki positions himself behind Tsubasa, chest pressed to his back. Tsubasa tilts his head back, letting Hideaki press light kisses to his neck before he says "turn around," in Tsubasa's ear.

Tsubasa does, reaching out for Hideaki to steady himself and planting his hands on his spread knees.

"I want to see you," he says, fingers playing aimlessly over Hideaki's skin.

"You've only had the blindfold on for like, two minutes," Hideaki says fondly.

"I know," Tsubasa pouts. "I still want to see you."

"Use your imagination," Hideaki suggests.

Tsubasa would roll his eyes, but the gesture wouldn't have much meaning, so instead he focuses on the senses he _can_ use. He listens to the sound of Hideaki's breathing, slow and even but hitching every so often when Tsubasa's fingers brush over sensitive spots. He lets his hands wander, feeling Hideaki's skin soft on his palms, the muscles tense underneath. He palms up Hideaki's inner thighs and feels how he spreads them automatically, all the little ways he shifts to be closer to Tsubasa. It's actually quite easy to form a mental picture of what Hideaki looks like right now: Tsubasa's seen him like this enough to have it committed to memory.

As his hands slip up Hideaki's thighs, the skin gets hotter. He lingers at his hips, and when he presses his fingertips into the skin he can feel Hideaki's blood thumping just under the surface. They'd been making out and touching for a while before Hideaki put the blindfold on him, and Tsubasa imagines he's edging from comfortably turned on into desperate. Tsubasa's suspicions are confirmed when he wraps his fingers around Hideaki's cock and is met with a low groan and Hideaki's hips twitching up into his hand.

"Fuck me," Hideaki breathes when Tsubasa rubs the heel of his palm over the slick tip of his cock.

Hideaki shoves lube into Tsubasa's hands, and Tsubasa can feel the bed shift as he positions himself for Tsubasa to finger him. He opens the lube by touch, having done it in the dark enough times that it's not much of a challenge, and soon he's got a finger curled inside Hideaki. He sighs, shifting onto it, and Tsubasa imagines how he looks: his head tilted back in pleasure, the tempting arch of his neck and the play of muscle under sweat-slicked skin as he writhes at Tsubasa's touch.

Tsubasa fingers Hideaki for a while, until he's long past ready; he's panting, making these high, half-swallowed noises with every twist of Tsubasa's fingers.

"Are you ready?" Tsubasa asks eventually.

"Yes," Hideaki says breathlessly, whining when Tsubasa crooks his fingers up, " _yes_."

Tsubasa's got his hands on Hideaki's thighs, is just thrusting into him when he reaches up, grabs Tsubasa's shoulder, and says, "Wait."

Tsubasa stops immediately, though Hideaki doesn't sound like he's in pain or, even really wants Tsubasa to stop. "What?" he says.

Hideaki pants, and Tsubasa can feel him shifting under him. "Don't come."

"What?" Tsubasa says incredulously, after a moment.

"Don't come," Hideaki repeats, this time sounding more confident about it. "Fuck me, but don't come until I tell you."

The challenge is tempting, interesting enough to send a jolt of arousal shivering down Tsubasa's spine. He starts to move again, thrusting in slowly and deliberately and feeling Hideaki arch into it. He groans, clenches around him, and Tsubasa shudders, biting his lip to hold back. Normally it's not difficult for him to draw things out, but it's usually on his own terms, and having been ordered not to come makes the possibility all the more enticing. The blindfold doesn't help, the way it magnifies every sensation that he's feeling. It's like the volume on everything's been turned up to eleven, making Tsubasa hypersensitive everywhere they touch, making every sound Hideaki makes ring in his ears.

Tsubasa can tell Hideaki's started touching himself because he feels him shiver, and he can hear the slick sounds of his hand on his cock. Hideaki's other hand travels down from Tsubasa's shoulder, palming over his bicep. Hideaki tilts his hips to take Tsubasa deeper, crossing his ankles at the small of Tsubasa's back. The need to come is starting to creep up on him, but he tries to shove it down. He's panting, sweat beading on his skin, and when Hideaki comes he can feel it so intensely that it makes stars explode behind his eyes. He chokes out a groan, leans blindly down and searches out Hideaki's mouth. He gets his chin first, then his cheekbone, and then Hideaki puts his hand in Tsubasa's hair, guiding him so that their lips meet.

"Keep going," he says when they pull apart, "make me come again, then you can."

Tsubasa makes a high, pained sound, feeling like the breath's been knocked out of him. He keeps going, though, feeling Hideaki pliant and sated under him, until Hideaki sits up a little, maneuvers them so he's on top. He braces his hands on Tsubasa's thighs, and Tsubasa wants so badly to see him. In an effort to distract himself from the rapidly approaching need to come, he imagines every detail of HIdeaki on top of him: the sweat sheen on his skin, the way his muscles shift as he moves, his head thrown back, his mouth wet and open.

"I can't—" Tsubasa starts, but it's interrupted by a groan when Hideaki rolls his hips, making Tsubasa's toes curl. "I want to come."

Hideaki stops moving, leans over all the way so his lips are pressed up against Tsubasa's jaw. "Beg me for it," he whispers.

"Please," Tsubasa breathes, taking hold of Hideaki's hips and thrusting up. He slides his hands around Hideaki's back, feeling all of his muscles tense under the skin. Hideaki starts to move again, sitting back up, and Tsubasa chokes out a whimper before speaking again. "Please, can I come?"

"Not yet," Hideaki says. Tsubasa feels hot all over, stuck right on the precipice of coming. It's kind of an amazing feeling, the sort of thing he doesn't usually stop to enjoy, and for a moment he completely gives himself over to the sensation, the tension throughout his body like a string pulled tight. 

" _Please_ ," Tsubasa whimpers, feeling like the word being is torn out of him. Hideaki runs fingertips up Tsubasa's sides, and even the light touch feels like fireworks over Tsubasa's skin.

"Make me come again," Hideaki says, voice a little taunting.

Tsubasa takes that as the challenge it is, braces his feet on the bed and thrusts up hard. He feels a shudder work through Hideaki's body, hears him moan. Tsubasa takes hold of Hideaki's cock, hard and slick with precome in his hand. Concentrating on making Hideaki come again does a bit to take his mind off of the need settled insistent under his skin, but it's still there, impossible to really ignore.

"Yeah," Tsubasa says, his voice pitched low, "come on, come for me." Hideaki makes a high, breathy sound.

"Beg me," he repeats, his voice thin and strained.

"I'm so close," Tsubasa whines, "please, _please_ , I don't think I can wait much longer."

"Try," HIdeaki says. He cups Tsubasa's cheek with one hand, thumbing across his lip. Tsubasa's tongue goes out immediately to lick at the pad of Hideaki's thumb, and he moans, pushing it farther in. Tsubasa bites down on it lightly, listening to Hideaki's gasp of pleasure. He bites down again, rubbing his thumb hard over the head of Hideaki's cock, and that's when he comes, shaking on top of Tsubasa. He bends forward and pants, open-mouthed, against Tsubasa's temple.

"Can I?" Tsubasa asks. Feeling Hideaki come around him a second time was almost too much to bear, and he's teetering now on the brink of coming, whether or not he has permission.

Tsubasa feels more than hears Hideaki saying "yes" against his skin, and the reaction is almost instantaneous: he comes, arching and moaning loud enough that Hideaki covers Tsubasa's mouth with his own, swallowing up the noise.

Hideaki's thighs are shaky as he climbs off of Tsubasa, and Tsubasa's still panting and drained from his orgasm when Hideaki eases the blindfold off his eyes, kissing his face lightly. The room seems unnaturally bright, and Tsubasa can only keep his eyes open for a few seconds at a time at first, but after about a minute, he sees Hideaki watching him with a fond smile. Tsubasa grins back, and when he kisses Hideaki he keeps his eyes open.

**mirrors, nipple play, writing on the body**

It starts because Tsubasa is bored. They're lying in bed, Hideaki having promised that he'd be done with what he was working on in less than an hour and Tsubasa having allowed him to keep working on it if he could do it in bed (a fatal mistake on Hideaki's part, but one he's not much regretting). So Tsubasa is bored and doodling designs up his left arm with a new marker. The tip is soft like a paintbrush, the ink black and bold against Tsubasa's skin as he traces swirls from his knuckles up his forearm. Hideaki is trying his best not to watch, to concentrate on the bright screen of his laptop, but it's proving extremely difficult. Hideaki's been barely paying attention for the last five minutes, but what tips his concentration off of a cliff is when Tsubasa starts in on Hideaki's right arm, the brush-tip of the marker tickling as it glides over the thin skin covering his wrist. He glances over at Tsubasa, who's barely holding back a smirk.

"Okay," Hideaki says, "I guess I can take a break."

"That's what I like to hear," Tsubasa says. He caps the marker, waiting for Hideaki to close his laptop and set it aside.

With Hideaki's laptop safely stowed, Tsubasa pushes the blanket down and slides the fingertips of his left hand over Hideaki's bare torso, the touch feather-light. Hideaki watches how the ink on his skin shifts with each slight movement. It's mesmerizing, somehow exotic despite the familiarity of the touch, and each brush of skin on skin feels electric.

"You like it?" Tsubasa asks, his voice low and breathy and so close to Hideaki's ear that it sends a shiver running down his spine.

"Yeah," he says. His mouth feels dry.

Seconds later, Tsubasa's straddling him and uncapping the marker. He looks down at Hideaki thoughtfully, like an artist surveying his canvas, before leaning in a little and grabbing his chin with his left hand. Tsubasa's about to place the pen on his cheekbone when Hideaki says, "wait."

Tsubasa pulls back, looking confused. "What?" he says. "It's not permanent marker, I already checked."

Hideaki laughs. "No, it's fine, I just…can we do it in front of the mirror?" he asks, blushing. "I wanna see."

Tsubasa grins. "Sure."

They pull a blanket out of Hideaki's closet and spread it out in front of his big, full-length mirror. It takes a little maneuvering to situate themselves so that Hideaki can easily see, but eventually they work it out: Hideaki sits cross-legged, and Tsubasa kneels in front of him. Hideaki watches as Tsubasa reaches out with his decorated arm to hold Hideaki's chin, tilting his head up. The pen feels strange on his cheekbone, cool and wet as it slips in an arc toward the corner of his eye. Tsubasa finishes it with a little swirl that sweeps toward his hairline, then leans back to admire his handiwork.

"Looks nice," he says. He's still holding onto Hideaki's chin, and he tilts his head to get a better view. "You should let me do this before the next concert."

Hideaki laughs, and he sees in the mirror how the ink moves with the crinkling of his eyes. Tsubasa leans in and kisses him, right over the swirl. The ink's not dry yet and it smudges black over his lips, a splotch staining his mouth. He grins, and Hideaki arches up to kiss his mouth while the ink's still wet, tasting it bitter on his tongue.

"At least try to wait a while before you start ruining it," Tsubasa laughs when they pull away.

"You started it," Hideaki points out, and Tsubasa grins, picks up the marker again. This time he draws in sweeps down from the corner of Hideaki's other eye, grand strokes that travel down to his jawline, that connect with the smudge around his lips. When he's done, he leans back to let Hideaki look at himself in the mirror. He's mesmerized by it, the play of the ink dark against his skin. Tsubasa moves so he's behind him, speaks into his ear with his dark mouth.

"What do you like about it?" he asks. He reaches in front of Hideaki and palms down his arms until his hands cover the backs of Hideaki's and he's lacing their fingers together, keeping Hideaki's hands stilled where he's placed them on his knees. Hideaki licks his lips, tasting traces of ink, and watches them in the mirror. He meets Tsubasa's eyes and they're dark and intense, focused.

"I like how it feels," Hideaki says, "when it's going on, how it's kind of wet and it tickles." Tsubasa nods. "And I like how it looks. It makes everything different." It's the same way Hideaki feels about stage makeup, but there's something about the intimacy of doing this alone with Tsubasa that makes it all so much more exciting. He looks down at Tsubasa's hands over his, at the clean one and the decorated one, and suddenly feels a lot more desperate.

"Touch me," he says breathlessly.

Tsubasa grins at him in the mirror, squeezes his hands. "Be patient," he says, "we'll get there."

Hideaki whines but doesn't protest, and Tsubasa lets go of his hands to pick up the marker again. He stays positioned behind him and soon Hideaki feels the wet tip of the marker at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the sudden contact, and Tsubasa blows on the skin, giving him goosebumps. He feels Tsubasa drawing aimless lines down from the nape of his neck, tracing between his shoulder blades. Hideaki sits up straight and tries not to move, tries to be a good canvas for Tsubasa. After a while it's difficult to follow the line of the marker; the sensations blend into a pleasant, teasing stroking over his skin. He relaxes into it, no longer curious about what Tsubasa's drawing: when he's done, he'll show him.

It's a few more minutes before Tsubasa pulls the marker away from Hideaki's skin and leans back; within that time Hideaki's relaxed so much that he feels like he's been pulled underwater, floating pleasantly on the sensation he's surrendered himself to.

"Turn around and look," Tsubasa instructs, and Hideaki does, then cranes his neck so he can see his back. It's difficult to see all of it at once, but there's an intricate pattern of swirls and lines like latticework over his back. It feels like he's looking at someone else. When he turns back to Tsubasa, he looks pleased with his work. Hideaki smiles back at him, and Tsubasa takes his right hand, holding it palm-up.

"Close your eyes and tell me what I'm drawing," he says.

Hideaki complies, feeling the marker making an arc, first, then a straight line, then another. He suspects already what it will be, and feeling the arc and then two lines of a ツ is enough to confirm his suspicions. He starts laughing, and hears Tsubasa doing the same, but he lets him finish drawing before he guesses "ai ai gasa?" Tsubasa squeezes his hand and Hideaki opens his eyes to see the shape of an umbrella decorating his palm, their names written under it. They laugh, and he reaches his newly-decorated hand up to cup Tsubasa's cheek before he kisses him.

"Face the mirror again," Tsubasa instructs when they pull away. He positions himself in front of Hideaki, tells him to lean back onto his hands. He arches his back a little, getting into the position, and Tsubasa stares for a few moments, uncapped pen in hand. Hideaki flushes at the scrutiny, but stays still and waits, breathing steadily.

This time, Tsubasa starts at Hideaki's right hip, trailing the marker's wet tip over the jut of bone and making a small swirl. Hideaki watches it in the mirror, watches as Tsubasa slowly transforms his torso into a canvas of erratic, aimless lines, starting and stopping and moving with his whims. He traces a feathery line, vine-like, up to Hideaki's collar bone, ends it right at the dip of the base of his throat. Hideaki arches his neck in case Tsubasa wants to draw farther up, letting his eyes drop closed.

Instead of the light press of the pen, though, the next thing Hideaki feels is Tsubasa's lips soft against his neck. He breathes in fast, his eyes snapping open. Tsubasa sucks lightly on the skin and Hideaki arches into it, groaning softly.

"Tsubasa," he breathes, and Tsubasa hums against his skin. He palms up Hideaki's side, over a series of now-dry swirls, and swipes his thumb over Hideaki's nipple. He jerks, his breath stuttering, and Tsubasa grins against the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

"Stay still," he mumbles, then pinches it lightly, squeezing just a little between his thumb and forefinger. Hideaki sucks in a breath that sounds a bit like a whine, but he manages not to move. Tsubasa rolls Hideaki's hard nipple between his fingertips, sending little shocks tingling through his nerves and straight down to his cock. He flexes his fingers, splaying them against the blanket. His arms are getting a little tired from holding the position, though he's sure Tsubasa's noticed.

Tsubasa ducks his head down from Hideaki's neck to flick his tongue over the nipple while he takes hold of the other one, and Hideaki groans, arching a little.

"Stop," he says weakly. He doesn't expect Tsubasa to listen, so it's a surprise when he pulls back. The ink stains around his mouth have faded a bit, probably rubbed off against Hideaki's skin, and when he glances at himself in the mirror he sees gray smudged like ash on his neck. They're both breathing hard, chests rising and falling visibly. Hideaki stares at Tsubasa for a moment, wondering why he'd stopped, and Tsubasa's lips curl slowly into a smirk.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?" he says.

"Well," Hideaki begins, "it's complicated." Tsubasa laughs, and Hideaki laughs too. "Mostly no, though, I guess."

Tsubasa doesn't say anything, just leans back in and starts mouthing at Hideaki's nipple again. He licks and nips and sucks until Hideaki's barely able to keep from squirming, too much sensation concentrated at a single part of his body. Just when he thinks he's reached the limit of what he can possibly take, Tsubasa's hand closes around his cock, and then he does squirm, his whole body arching toward Tsubasa's touch. He leans all his weight on his left arm and buries his right hand in Tsubasa's hair, tugging his head up so he can kiss him. Tsubasa surges forward, as though he'd been waiting the whole time for Hideaki to make a move (and maybe he had). He straddles Hideaki's thighs, cock hard against his stomach, and braces his hands on his shoulders. Hideaki tilts his head up, opens his mouth against Tsubasa's lips. There's still a trace of inky bitterness on them, and Hideaki chases the flavor mindlessly, letting his hand drop from Tsubasa's hair to wrap his arm around his waist and tug him closer.

They kiss until Hideaki's breathless from it, his arm aching from the strain of holding his own weight and some of Tsubasa's. He leans back so he's on his elbow, chest heaving. Tsubasa looks down at Hideaki from where he's straddling his thighs and rolls his hips slowly and deliberately, grinding their cocks together and making Hideaki gasp.

Tsubasa positions them so that Hideaki can see him fingering himself in the mirror, back arched and writhing on Hideaki's lap. Hideaki can't tear his eyes away from it, and he takes hold of Tsubasa's cock without a glance, jerking him off as he rolls his hips back against his fingers with a low, breathless groan. As he watches Tsubasa pushing in a third finger, Hideaki runs his free hand down the curve of Tsubasa's side, fingers settling over his hipbone. He squeezes, impatient, and watches Tsubasa twist his fingers and shudder.

In the mirror, Hideaki can see as Tsubasa sinks down onto his cock, can see it slowly filling him, and the sight of it combined with how good it feels is almost too much to take. Hideaki sits up, crushing their mouths together, and Tsubasa quickly wraps his legs around Hideaki, ankles crossed at the small of his back. Hideaki thrusts up into him and Tsubasa groans into his mouth, the kiss turning messy. Tsubasa's lips slip up Hideaki's jaw until he's panting right in his ear, and Hideaki flexes his fingers at Tsubasa's waist, panting. Tsubasa rocks his hips down, their skin slick with sweat everywhere they're touching.

Hideaki opens his eyes for a second and catches a glimpse of it in the mirror, all the ink smearing black and messy between them, and it spurs him to thrust into Tsubasa harder, feeling him tight and hot around his cock. Tsubasa groans against Hideaki's skin, meeting every thrust with a roll of his hips. He flexes his fingers on Hideaki's shoulders.

"Make me come," Tsubasa murmurs, the low growl of his voice sending shocks down Hideaki's spine.

The hand he wraps around Tsubasa's cock is slick with sweat and ink, and Tsubasa jerks into it as soon as Hideaki's touches him. Tsubasa urges Hideaki on by mumbling filth against his skin, telling him how good it feels, and he's so caught up in thinking about making Tsubasa come that his own orgasm comes as a shock. He muffles his moan against Tsubasa's shoulder, his wet palm still working his cock until he feels him coming hot onto Hideaki's stomach.

They collapse on the blanket, panting, and stay there for about two minutes before Hideaki notices Tsubasa examining the ink smeared all over their bodies with a critical eye.

"I'll draw the bath," Hideaki says, "you put the blanket in the washing machine."

Tsubasa gives him an inordinately pleased look for a man who's just been given the opportunity to do laundry, then turns onto his stomach and drops a kiss onto Hideaki's shoulder.

**collar, jealousy, possession/marking**

The truth is, even though they'd like to do this kind of thing spontaneously, it's always carefully planned, nudged into the little empty spaces in their schedules. It's hard enough to line things up so they have time together, even harder to work it out so they can do something like this.

The collar feels tight around Tsubasa's neck, even though it fits perfectly, no snugger than it should be, but it's like a weight, like a presence he can't ignore as Hideaki winds the leash around his wrists, tethering them to the back of his neck. If Tsubasa struggles, the collar _will_ be too tight: he pulls on it experimentally, testing the limits, and finds it cuts off his breathing easily. When Hideaki's satisfied with how he's gotten Tsubasa's arms immobilized, he kisses him hard. The kiss is insistent, not leaving room for either of them to breathe, and they're both gasping when their mouths part.

"You're mine," Hideaki says, pressing his forehead to Tsubasa's, mouth so close that Tsubasa can feel Hideaki's breath hot on his lips..

"Yes," Tsubasa confirms. He's never sure what it is that makes Hideaki's possessive streak flare up; if he had any idea, he'd be pushing that button all the time because Hideaki is hot like this, dominant and animalistic and not at all careful or controlled. 

Then Hideaki's pressing his face up against Tsubasa's neck, mouthing over the smooth leather of the collar before settling at a spot just under his throat and starting to suck on the skin there. A carefully-trained part of Tsubasa starts to panic at the thought of having a mark, but they've planned this perfectly, he reassures himself: they have enough time away from cameras for the marks to heal. He takes a breath, then lets himself go, free from worrying about the consequences. Hideaki starts out sucking lightly, but soon the pressure is enough that it's just slightly painful, a little throb under Tsubasa's skin. He shivers, breathing out shakily.

While Hideaki sucks on his neck, he palms over Tsubasa's thighs, his hands warm and the touch certain, possessive. Tsubasa likes it, likes feeling taken care of, treasured, and when Hideaki pulls back to admire the beginnings of the mark he's made, Tsubasa finds himself grinning at him. Hideaki's eyes flick up to Tsubasa's face, and his lips curl into a smile.

"You're mine, too," Tsubasa says, wishing he could reach out and touch him.

"Of course," Hideaki breathes, and then he's mouthing over Tsubasa's clavicle. He nips at the thin skin, making Tsubasa jerk and the collar dig into his neck. He gasps, and Hideaki bites harder, then sucks over it. Tsubasa can already picture the patchwork of marks he'll have by tomorrow morning; the thought of it makes him groan.

Hideaki sucks a trail of marks down Tsubasa's torso, from his neck across his chest, over his abs, all the way down to the jut of his hipbone. By the time he gets there, Tsubasa feels desperate and breathless. His arms burn and tingle from holding the position they've been tied in so he doesn't choke, the ache of it making every pleasurable sensation feel magnified. Hideaki pulls back to look at it, little bruises blossoming over Tsubasa's skin, and Tsubasa pants, his whole body feeling hot.

Tsubasa doesn't expect it when Hideaki bends back down to take Tsubasa's cock into his mouth, and he forgets the collar for a second, his hands instinctively wanting to go to Hideaki's hair. He chokes as the collar tightens, hard and abrupt, around his neck, before returning his arms to the right position. With Hideaki's mouth on him it's hard for Tsubasa to concentrate on keeping his arms still, and it seems every minute or so he's pulling the collar tight and choking himself again. The sensation makes him lightheaded, little sparks exploding behind his eyes every time he does it. He moans, and Hideaki echoes the sound, muffled vibrations around Tsubasa's cock.

"Oh, god," Tsubasa moans, his vision starting to white out at the edges, and that's when Hideaki pulls back. Tsubasa pants, a high sound in his voice that's something like a whimper.

"Breathe," Hideaki says, putting his hands on Tsubasa's knees. Tsubasa nods, laughing, and Hideaki waits for him to catch his breath.

"It's okay," Tsubasa says after a minute, and Hideaki smiles before standing up, carding his fingers through Tsubasa's hair and tilting his head back gently. Tsubasa's mouth falls open, and Hideaki holds the base of his cock with his other hand, touching it to the curve of Tsubasa's bottom lip.

"Can you breathe like this?" he asks. It's a little difficult, the arch of his neck making the collar tighter, but Tsubasa's still able to breathe.

"Yeah," he says, and Hideaki slides his cock into Tsubasa's mouth. The angle, with Tsubasa's head tilted back like it is, makes it easy to take it all the way, into the back of his throat. Tsubasa breathes shallowly through his nose, trying not to move too much: he lets Hideaki do most of the work. His head starts to feel like it's spinning, and at first Tsubasa's not sure if it's from being turned on or not being able to breathe, or both. He lets himself revel in the feeling, though, a little like floating, as Hideaki thrusts his cock in and out of Tsubasa's mouth. The only things he can hear are the wet, slurping sounds he's making and Hideaki's intermittent groans.

Hideaki gets louder when he gets close to coming, more insistent. He tugs at Tsubasa's hair, repeating over and over that Tsubasa's his, and it filters into Tsubasa's mind through the haze, making arousal curl tighter in his stomach. He sucks at Hideaki's cock as best he can, and then Hideaki's coming down Tsubasa's throat. It's hard to swallow with the collar tight against his neck, and Tsubasa can feel some of the spit and come running down his chin, but Hideaki's there quickly, framing his face with both hands and kissing him. Tsubasa pants, unable to speak. His arms ache, his head is light, his cock feels impossibly hard.

Tsubasa's about to ask for it when Hideaki bends down and licks at the tip of Tsubasa's cock. He sucks all the way down in a smooth motion, and when Tsubasa thrusts his hips up into it, Hideaki just swallows around him with a groan. It only takes a few more seconds before Tsubasa's coming, writhing enough to choke himself but not caring. His vision blurs around the edges as Hideaki swallows around him, and when he opens his eyes next everything's swimming and Hideaki is unwinding the leash from Tsubasa's wrists.

When he lets Tsubasa's arms down, they feel weightless, strange with the strain of the position taken away. He pants as Hideaki removes the collar, then moves in front of Tsubasa to look at him, taking his hands and trying to rub some of the feeling back into them.

" _Whoa_ ," Hideaki says, somewhere between amazed and turned on, "you pulled hard enough to leave a mark."

Tsubasa looks at the marks later, touches them gingerly as he stands in front of the mirror. Hideaki catches him, comes up behind him and kisses his neck, following the trail of bruises with light kisses, and Tsubasa sighs, content.


End file.
